


State of Peace

by H4T08



Series: Behind the Door [6]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s01e11 State of Flux, F/M, Holodeck, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H4T08/pseuds/H4T08
Summary: Shame colors his cheeks as the sour taste of betrayal coats his tongue. Hanging his head, he whispers, “She betrayed me in the worst possible way. I thought I knew everything about her.” Biting his lip, he shakes his head and mutters under his breath, “I feel like such a fool.”Bracing herself with her hands on her hips, she lifts her chin and grits, “She didn't just betray you, she betrayed everyone on this ship. However, that does not give you a right to run a program that will beat the hell out of you.”





	State of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Scene addition for 'State of Flux'. Takes place after Seska leaves the ship, but before Chakotay talks with Tuvok in the mess hall.
> 
> Italics implies character's thoughts.

“Captain,” Tuvok calls from across the bridge, “the other Kazan ships are not pursuing us.”

His tone is clipped and to the point; if she were to give his emotional state a name, she would have guessed anger, pure in its natural form. Yet, he is a Vulcan, he has no emotional state, just pure logic. “Understood. Thank you, Mr. Tuvok. Mr. Paris, continue on this course.”

"Aye, aye, Captain,” Paris quietly calls over his shoulder. The mood on the bridge is somber, at best, and as much as he wants to liven things up a bit, he knows that there is a time and place for it.

Leaning back into her chair, Kathryn is thankful that Tom doesn't let out a joke. Yes, the mood is thick with confusion and pulsating with fury, but a wisecrack would have only deepen the emotions riddling from all over the ship. Spying around the room, she notices, _it's not just me who is taking Seska’s deceit personally_. Harry seems a little pale, Torres looks as if her puppy has just died, and a stubborn vein thumps against Tuvok’s neck. Glancing over at the empty seat next to her, the one that she secretly worries about the most took off just as they came back onto the bridge. _I could literally feel his pain_.

Turning back to the screen at hand, a new wave of fury rolls through her at the thought of her crew once again being torn apart. Yes, she was not happy about her predicament, but that's no reason to deceive the ones that can take her home… to Cardassia. _Damn, that was the biggest shocker of all. She played off her part so well that she was able to deceive both Chakotay and Tuvok._

Leaning her elbow on the arm rest, she rests her chin on the back of her two fingers as she thinks back to the ride to the bridge. _Between all three of us, the air was thick with rage clawing its way out of our chest. She got away with no remorse, no consequences to her unthinkable actions. Up to the last minute, she had either lied or justified her deceit. If this had truly been a Cardassian ship, she would have instantly been killed for treason_.

Pushing her chin away, the mere thought of Cardassians rips a memory from her she had sworn she would never think of again. The sounds of the chains clinking above her head reverberates in her ears. The smell of stale blood attacks her nostrils. The touch of a calloused hand along her naked, bruised skin–

 _ **NO**_! Abruptly standing from her chair, she resides to finish out her time on the bridge in her ready room where there are a mountain of reports to read with her name on it. Already making her way down, she commands, “Mr. Tuvok, you have the bridge. I'll be in my ready room.”

His soft, “Aye, Captain,” is the last thing she hears before the doors close. Stepping over to her desk, she gathers a few of her reports in her arms and dumps them on the couch just below the window. Turning to the replicator, she commands, “Coffee, black – No! – computer resend that order.” The last thing her jumpy nerves needs is more stimulant. Sighing in defeat, her hand captures the wall as she lets her head hang. Feeling the tension in her neck creep down the muscles in her back, she mutters to the replicator, “Wine, merlot, chilled.”

The stemless glass appears before her holding the solution to her stress, she gladly takes it and steals a sip from it right away. The cool bitter flavor twirls along her tongue and easily slides down her throat, leaving her mouth dry and desperate for more. Resisting the urge to gulp all of the contents in one mouthful, she grips the glass tightly and sits on the couch. Not yet wanting to delve into a monotonous report, she stares outside the window at the stream stars.

Resting the chilled glass along her forehead, she closes her eyes as she replays the days events. She tries to pick up anything that would have given way to Seska’s true nature with no luck. Just as her mind replays the blue transporter beam taking her away, the nerve just below the base of her neck pinches tightly. Reaching behind her neck, her fingers press and knead the bundle of tight nerves.

Letting a soft moan escape her lips at the small relief she can get on her own, she takes another sip of wine to help numb the rest of the pain away. Reaching down to pick up one of the PADDs with her free hand, she activates the view screen to see that it's one of Chakotay’s reports that he made outlining the trap set for both Seska and Carey. His words are cold and impersonal on screen, but she can't help but read it in his voice. Taking on a whole new life after the true saboteur was revealed, she can't help but hear the defeat in his words. _Did he know it was her all along? Or was it a gut-feeling?_

A brief concern of where and how Chakotay is doing flutters through her mind but she makes it quickly disappear. _I can't concern myself in the personal life of my first officer; not when I have made my position on the subject as clear as crystal a week ago_. She fills her dry mouth with wine again as the memory of his confession in his bathroom replays in her mind.

Once she swallows, she shakes her head. _I have already toed the invisible line between our personal and professional relationship four times with him and each time, it's become more difficult to resist the pull of crossing that line with him. In this line of work, it should be easy to resist, but stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a man who can easily make me question the perimeters I have been taught to draw around me makes that line less defined and easier to step across_.

Throwing down the PADD with a frustrated huff of hot air, she takes in the last gulp of wine as she reasons that her concern is for the well-being of her first officer and friend. _At times, the only friend I feel that knows me on this cursed ship_. Running her finger across her sticky lips, she calls out before she has a chance to change her mind, “Computer, location of Commander Chakotay.”

“Commander Chakotay is currently in holodeck two.”

Curiosity nagging her as to why he chose to go there instead of his quarters to meditate, she abandons all reasoning to stay hidden behind their professional line and asks, “Which program is he running?”

“Holodeck two is currently running ‘Chakotay Calestinics Program Two’.”

Holding her chin with her thumb as her fingers tap a nonsensical beat along her lips in thought, she deposits her empty glass on the table in front of her and stands. Before she loses her confidence, she marches out of her office and straight to the turbolift. _Hell is paved with good intentions_.

Staring at the ceiling for guidance, she softly commands, “Deck six.” Taking a momentary solace in the hum beneath her feet, she captures her hands behind her back and tries not to invest too much thought into this. _He is my friend who has had a shit day and I'm is making sure that he is okay. End of story._

When it had reached her destination, the turbolift opens to a quiet deck. Putting one foot in front of the other, she hesitantly makes her way to holodeck two. Just as she steps up to the thick set of doors, she takes a deep breath in to clear her mind just as the holodeck grants her entrance.

Taking in her surroundings, the first thing she notices is the sparse plant life of what looks to be an abandoned colony. It's gritty scenery complements the hot musk of sweat and rage that envelopes all around her. Taking a step in, her senses are on high alert as she looks around for him. Hearing a grunt of pain, she turns towards it concerned that he is hurt. Rolling her eyes as her heeled boots stumbles against the rocky ground, she turns the corner of a building to see two people fighting.

Stopping just short of a few abandoned pipes lying hazardously on the ground, concern quickly turns to shock when she sees that Chakotay is fighting violently with another male – one that is thankfully not part of their crew. The jabs, punches and kicks that they inflict on each other is so quick that Kathryn has a hard time keeping up with who is winning and who is losing. However, to her credit, it doesn't help that her mouth dries at the sight of his tanned bare chest coated in a sheen of sweat as a pair of loose trousers hangs off of his hips.

Closing her eyes and shaking her head from the flurry of purely sexual thoughts that bombard her mind, she snaps her eyes open to take a fresh look at him. Noticing the appearance of new bruises starting to form along his arms and face as well as the light trickle of blood trailing down his chin, she guesses that it's him that is losing the fight. That is until he frees himself from against the wall and clocks the other fighter under his chin.

Letting a small smile of victory cross his cracked lips, Chakotay is about to call for the next level when he sees a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. Quickly switching around on guard for a possible attack, he is taken back when he sees Kathryn staring at him. Knowing that the safety limits were turned off when he started his program, he is about to call out to her to leave when he is suddenly dropped to the ground by his opponent swinging his ankle across to take him down.

He has no time to think of a plan to attack when his opponent drops the heel of his foot against his stomach. Doubling in pain, he barely brings himself up an inch when the knee of his opponent collides with his jaw and nose. Instantly feeling the warm blood rushing down over his mouth, he closes his eyes as he prepares himself for the next blow. When it doesn't come, he slowly peels open his eyes to find Kathryn rushing across the littered ground to where he is at. Instantly looking to see where his opponent went, he is somewhat relieved that he is no longer there. _She must have ordered him away_. Staring serenely back at her figure fighting through the barrage of objects in her way, he quickly takes notice of the scowl that is covering her beautiful face.

Struggling to get through the broken chain link fence, she yells as she stomps up to him, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Dropping down to her knees so that she is eye-to-eye with him, she stiffly rages, “He could have killed you!” Through her anger, she sees the understanding of his actions. _He wants to feel alive. Can I blame him?_ Taking a deep breath, she looks towards the sky and commands, “Computer, generate a bowl of warm water, a washcloth, analgesic cream, and some bandages.” When the items she asks for appears by her side, she takes the cloth and dips it into the water. Just as she brings it up to his face, she calmly tells him, “This will sting, but take it as a punishment for your idiotic decision to turn off the safety protocols for this barbaric program.”

First wiping off the blood and dirt caked over his skin onto her rag, she then works over his open wounds with the analgesic. Despite her anger with him, her fingers are gentle as they caress over his bruised skin.

As she fixes his bloody body, he can't help but think, _this is the peace I have been trying to find_. Closing his eyes, he tries to memorize the feel of her finger tips tracing over his wounds and the soft sound of her short breaths between her lips. Letting the pain disappear from his mind, he now concentrates on her.

Covering his cracked skin with the last bandage, she finds that the fury she had when she first started tending his wounds disappears into a silent void of genuine concern for his well-being. Leaning back on her toes, she looks him over with a critical eye to see if there are any other injuries to mend.

That's when she remember that he is half naked. Feeling her lungs give out, desire pools in an area that she silently wishes wasn't forbidden to him. With an overwhelming urge to touch him, she logically reasons that she needs to keep her hands busy.

Subconsciously licking her lips, she deftly grabs the cloth from the bowl and wrings out the excess water. Starting from his neck, she fluidly traces the wet cloth down his shoulders to rid the grit and grim created by the holodeck and his barbaric activities. Rinsing her washcloth clean, she places it just under the straight line of his clavicle and mumbles under her breath, “Computer, clean water.” Pressing the heel of her hand into his well-defined chest, she traces the lines of his muscles with such a delicate touch that goosebumps erupt along his exposed skin. Abruptly stopping, she lets the dirty cloth drop into the bowl as she silently condemns herself to going this far with him. Standing and putting some much needed distance between them, she folds her arms across her chest.

Sensing the loss of heat, he lazily opens his hooded eyes and stares at her, silently begging for more of her touch.

She knows exactly what he is asking for, but she had already given him so much, she couldn't go anymore. Scowling to cover the pain of wanting to give more, she orders, “Your holodeck privileges have been revoked for a week.” Her condemning voice cracks when she sees him stand quickly.

Anger flashes through him at her words, but then quickly leaves in a huff of smoke. Shame colors his cheeks as the sour taste of betrayal coats his tongue. Hanging his head, he whispers, “She betrayed me in the worst possible way. I thought I knew everything about her.” Biting his lip, he shakes his head and mutters under his breath, “I feel like such a fool.”

Bracing herself with her hands on her hips, she lifts her chin and grits, “She didn't just betray you, she betrayed everyone on this ship. However, that does not give you a right to run a program that will beat the shit out of you.”

Lifting his chin defiantly, he crosses, “I had everything under control until you--”

Rolling her eyes, she calls out interrupting him, “Do you want to get some dinner?” _Fuck, fuck, fuck! Did I just ask him to dinner? I shouldn't have, but what's more concerning is that I want him to say yes_.

He barely finishes under his breath, “—distracted me.” Taking in her stance, he notices that, even though her body stands rigid from stress, her face remains soft and genuine. Within a matter of seconds, guilt nearly has him doubled over. He made her worry about him and the last thing she needs to worry about is him. Never wanting to stress her more than she already is, shame tumbles down his chest and squeezes his stomach into knots. And as much as he wants her company, he decides to err on her side of how their relationship should be handled. “No, after everything that happened last time…” Stumbling, he is unsure as to how he should finish his sentence. The memory of their kiss, his confession of how he truly feels, and her subsequent retaliation to push him away stings in his mind.

Letting her arms fall to her sides, a hopeless feeling of grief flames through her veins. _I should have never even asked_. Silently nodding her head, she bitterly swallows her angst and once again reasons that it’s the right thing to do. _I pushed him away for good reason a week ago. I can't keep teetering along this invisible line of professional proprietary and personal desires. It's not fair to him_.

With nothing else to say to each other, an awkward silence falls between them.

Glancing up at him through her lashes, she notices that the emotions she is experiencing is crossing his handsome features. Damn this all to hell! Her damned heart, not yet ready to give in to reality just yet, pulls her into his personal space and captures his cheek within her palm. The electric currant that flows between them is comforting and makes her feel as if she is not alone in this galaxy. Leaning in, she softly kisses his cheek and, not yet wanting to separate from him just yet, nuzzles warmly against his skin. Taking advantage as long as she can afford, after a moment, she takes a deep breath and separates herself from him. Instantly feeling the cool air attack her cheeks, she swallows her desire and murmurs, “Have a good evening, Commander.” Turning away from him, she forces herself to walk out of the holodeck as she berates herself for giving in to what she desires most. _As much as I will tell myself that I will regret that in the morning, I know deep down, I won't_.

For his part, he keeps his feet planted to the ground, knowing that if he were to run after her, he would somehow bring more instability to their already rocky relationship. Staring at her retreating figure, he doesn't let a breath go until he sees her slipping around the corner into the corridor. Lifting his wrapped hand to his face, he lightly traces the ghostly path of her kiss. It extraordinarily instilled a sense of calmness and serenity throughout his whole body that kick boxing or any such violence could never do.

 _Curious_ , he thinks as he swaggers towards the exit, _that this supposed enemy of mine is the only one that can bring me peace with just the slight touch of her lips_. Not wanting to delve into the paradox just yet, he quickly throws his shirt on and makes his way to his quarters.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please tell me what you think!


End file.
